Gin & Tonic
by LuceFray27
Summary: It's 5 years after the fall of Voldemort and everyone seems to be getting on with their lives. Settling down, getting married, doing what they'd always dreamed. Ginny is still trying to figure out who she is, and Pansy is still silently suffering the effects of war. A story of self-discovery, forgiveness, redemption, and healing.
1. It's a Gay Bar, Weasley

**Disclaimer:** Joanne did the hard work. I just reorganised her words a little.

 **Beta Love:** BirdieMing, Mahawna, MissandMarauder, & Dreamingofstars85

 **A/N:** Hello beautiful souls! Some of you may know this fic as _The Damn Unnamed Ginsy_ , but I have finally settled on a real name. HA! Anyway, quick here in the beginning, I wanted to get a few things out there. This fic will cover some hard topics, such as depression, self-harm (though not explicitily, only mentioned/referenced), coming out (to self and others), and the after effects of a childhood of trauma and war. If you are sensitive to any of these things, please proceed with caution.

Alright, I love you all and hope you enjoy this!

P.S. - I am going to update bi-weekly as of now.

xoxo, Luc

* * *

 **CHAPTER ONE**

 **It's a Gay Bar, Weasley**

It was overly crowded. Wednesday nights weren't usually this busy, but apparently, the week leading up to the five year anniversary of Voldemort's defeat was full of nights that demanded to be celebrated.

Or, alternatively, as it were, nights that demanded to be forgotten.

She crossed her legs, looking down to admire her new shoes. They had been ordered custom from Paris—very red, very high, and very expensive. She had intended them to be her _fuck me_ heels, but when the shop owled her today and said they were in, she couldn't _not_ try them out tonight, even if she didn't plan on fucking anyone.

She bit her lip as a blonde wearing a deliciously short dress walked by, her hips swaying back and forth, giving the slightest peek as to what kind of knickers the witch was—or wasn't—wearing.

Sighing, she closed her eyes briefly and shook her head. Tonight was about drowning her sorrows, not picking up women. Five years after the war ended and she was still living off her dead father's Gringotts vault, drinking in bars, and sleeping around.

She always told herself that throwing money away on drinks and women would greatly disturb her father, and the image of him rolling over in his grave gave her too much joy for her to quit now.

Five years, though. Her friends were either settling down or in serious relationships, moving up and advancing in their careers, or disgustingly happy flitting around the world as they explored with their girlfriends, studying bloody made up creatures and reading magazines upside down like everything was ordinary.

So she drank. A lot. Until she wasn't worried about anything anymore.

That had been her goal tonight. Which is why she sat at the far side of the club tucked away on a corner stool at the end of the bar. She'd already told Chase, the exceptionally queer barkeep—who was sporting bright pink hair at the moment—that she would decline anyone who tried to buy her a drink tonight, and requested that he tell anyone who asked to kindly fuck off.

He'd laughed, asked what had her knickers in a twist, decided that 'who was he kidding, she probably wasn't wearing knickers',and wondered 'wasn't she happy to be celebrating Voldemort's defeat'?

She'd asked for a gin and tonic and ignored the rest.

And now here she was, quietly working her way through her fourth drink, nowhere near drunk enough to be able to forget what day it was, people watching.

Pathetic.

It's no wonder Pansy noticed her immediately when she walked in.

 **xxx**

Regret.

Was it regret she was feeling or just crippling fear?

She shouldn't have come. What had she been thinking? Tonight of all nights? The place was packed, someone was bound to recognise her. And even if they didn't, there were just too many people; it was overwhelming. Honestly, what had she been thinking?

Alcohol. She needed alcohol for this.

Four _excuse me's,_ several bumps and one possibly intentional butt grab later, and she was standing at the bar. She must have looked desperate because the bartender made his way over to her immediately, smiling brightly.

"Aww, you look like you need a drink, babe," he said, winking at her. He had pink hair, lilac polish on his nails, and a white v-neck tee that looked to be hand painted with the words 'HOMO' in all caps and holographic rainbow, and then a much smaller all black 'sapien' below that.

"Uh, yeah… just a—a pint of lager, please," she said, looking around to see if she spotted anyone she knew. Turning back, she quickly added, "A shot of firewhisky, too."

She wasn't sure if she would be relieved if she did see someone, or duck and hide.

"I'm Chase, Chaseypoo," he said, singing the last bit—apparently his nickname, or something. He slid the shot over before tapping the beer hose with his wand and filling up the glass, placing it in front of her. "First time here?"

She tipped back the shot. "Is it that obvious?"

"I've been doing this a long time." He shrugged and placed an elbow on the counter. "You picked a hell of a night, red. What's the occasion?"

She sighed. "I don't know," she said honestly.

He squealed. He actually squealed, clapped his hands together dramatically, and then put his second elbow on the counter, leaning as close to her as he could. "Not just your first time here, then. First time _anywhere!"_

"It's not a big deal," she said quickly, not wanting him to draw any attention to her.

"Closet, then." Shrugging, he stood and winked at her once more before someone down the bar waved and he left to tend to them.

She bit her lip, unsure of what to do. The lights were dim here, but it seemed that everyone around her was having a good time—laughing, dancing to the music, or tucked away in intimate booths doing who knows what. It seemed like just about any other nightclub she'd been to.

A dark-haired girl walked up to the bar and stood next to her, leaning over the counter and signalling the bartender—Chase—that she was ready to order. When her gaze—seemingly of its own accord—travelled down the line of the brunette's back and fell onto her bum, a blush crept up her cheeks and she quickly turned away, taking a large gulp of her beer. She was by herself, in a queer bar, checking out women.

It was no wonder Ginny was questioning everything she thought she knew about herself.

 **xxx**

Pansy watched as the lady Weasley ordered a drink from Chase and wondered what in the world she was doing in _this_ bar. This was a frequent spot for Pansy, and she'd never seen the redhead here before, or at _any_ of the very few gay wizarding bars there were. It was a fairly tight community and Pansy prided herself on knowing most of everything that went on within it.

Ginny Weasley was not a name she'd heard in any of her circles.

Actually, the last she'd heard about the girl was that she was dating some Quidditch player who flew for Puddlemere—a very good looking one, at that—after she and Potter broke up over three years ago. Since then she'd been completely off Pansy's radar.

Not that she kept tabs on the woman for Salazar's sake, but when Draco had started dating Potter, Pansy had been curious as to how the scorned lover had reacted.

According to Potter, Weaslette had been utterly non-reactive. She'd forgiven him when he thought he needed it, and let him go. Somehow the wizarding world's most beloved couple had managed a quiet, private break up.

And now, three years later, Pansy was watching Ginny Weasley not so subtly check out the arse of the brunette witch standing next to her.

It was going to be an interesting night.

 **xxx**

Ginny finished her beer in record time and was ready to order another by the time Chase had come back to her end of the bar to help the girl next to her. She stuck with beer, trying to keep her expression neutral as she looked around the room and saw the people. Being gay wasn't exactly frowned upon in the wizarding world, but it wouldn't be flaunted either. It was a quiet thing, usually kept behind closed doors and not often talked about. Only in recent years was it becoming socially acceptable to be 'out.'

Here though, Ginny's eyes wandered from the two guys who were dancing together, one grinding his arse into the other's crotch, to the two girls flirting at one of the tables, to— _huh_ —to a guy and a girl snogging in the corner.

Ginny was still staring at the pair when a voice interrupted. "I'm not sure how you do it in straight bars, but a stare that intense is a little creepy here," Chase said over her shoulder.

She blushed and turned to apologise, but was relieved to see that he was actually laughing.

"I just—do straight people come here?" she asked, confused.

"We don't exactly ask for your gay card at the door, baby cakes." He chuckled, glancing back briefly at the couple she had been ogling. "That's Stella and Ross, queer as queer can be."

When Ginny's confused expression did not change, Chase took pity on her and leaned in, whispering in her ear. "I'm not telling you anything she doesn't proudly tell anyone who asks, but it's been Stella for about four years now. Before that, it was Stellan."

Ginny blushed. "Oh," was all she could think to say.

 **xxx**

Pansy tried to push the ginger witch out of her thoughts but curiosity was eating her up. She didn't like not knowing things, especially things like this. She finished her drink, waving Chase down to order another. While he poured, he must have caught her looking at Weaslette.

"I didn't realise redheads were your type, Pans." He smirked and placed the tumbler in front of her.

"They aren't," she muttered irritably.

"You've been coming here for nearly five years, dollface. I know how you look when you're interested in a bird."

"Fuck off, Chase."

He laughed, taking her empty glass in one hand and blowing her a kiss with the other before leaving her alone once again.

She watched as the lady Weasley stood there awkwardly, looking around the room. It was obvious she was out of her element and Pansy almost felt bad for the girl. Tonight had _not_ been a good night to test the waters here.

Ginny pulled the elastic from the end of her braid, shaking out her hair slightly and running a hand through the tousled curls nervously.

"Fuck," she whispered to herself. " _Not_ your type, Pansy. Leave it alone."

 **xxx**

Ginny tried to relax. She felt like anyone with half a brain would be able to tell how nervous and uncomfortable she was, and that was _not_ something she wanted to advertise. She let her hair down and took the seat she'd been standing by, twisting slightly so that her back wasn't to the room.

She was already here, she might as well enjoy it. Or at least _try_ not to drown in her own nervousness. So far, she hadn't seen anyone she knew or even recognised, and no one had come screaming at her that she wasn't allowed to be here.

Ginny had been working up the courage to come here for longer than she cared to admit— there was no reason to back out now.

The brunette witch that she had eyed earlier turned toward Ginny and flashed a gorgeous smile. "Hi," she said.

"Hi," Ginny replied, butterflies in her stomach.

She rested her hand on Ginny's thigh. "Want to dance?"

"Oh, uh, well, thanks, but… I was actually just heading to the loo." Ginny jumped off the stool and, after quickly glancing around, hurried off to the restroom, trying not to hyperventilate.

 **xxx**

Pansy couldn't help but smile at how adorable Weasley looked _literally_ running away from another witch flirting with her. She wasn't surprised when Ginny had been approached, the woman was bloody gorgeous, even if it was obvious she didn't realise it herself. She was wearing an oversized white jumper and a red skirt that somehow, miraculously, didn't clash with her hair.

It pained Pansy to admit it, but she was _bloody attracted_ to a Weasley.

Which is why when she saw the redhead jump off that stool and race toward the loo, she quickly downed her own drink and followed after her—obviously with much more poise than Weasley had shown in her haste to run away.

 **xxx**

Ginny pushed open the door to the loo and hurried inside. Letting out a deep sigh, she braced her back against the wall and brought her hands up to her face.

"What were you thinking?" she groaned.

She should have talked to Harry and made him come with her. He was the only one she could imagine confiding to, and he would have been right at home here. He would have been able to calm her down.

Ginny inhaled sharply and straightened up when the door was pushed open. While she knew it wasn't strange for girls to refresh in the loo at bars, it _was_ frowned upon to talk to oneself.

When she saw the witch who walked in, her jaw dropped.

 **xxx**

Pansy walked up to the mirror, watching Weasley in the reflection as she reapplied her lipstick, finishing with a charm to keep it from smearing or transferring.

"Just because the walls in here are red, Weasley, doesn't mean you'll blend in." Pansy turned to face the startled woman pressed up against the wall.

" _Hi Pansy, fancy seeing you here_ ," she supplied when she got no answer from Ginny. "Oh, me? I come here all the time. _You_ however, do not. What are you doing here, Weasley?"

"I… uh… Well," she stuttered over her words, clearly unsure how to answer. "Why are you here?"

Pansy took three steps until she was right in Ginny's personal space. "It's a gay bar, Weasley. I'm _gay_."

 **xxx**

She was standing incredibly close. So close, that Ginny could smell her perfume. It surprised her that she liked it.

"It's a gay bar, Weasley. I'm _gay_."

"Oh, right. Actually, Harry told me that, I think," she said, unable to form a coherent thought as Pansy had put her hands up against the wall, effectively trapping Ginny.

"Surprisingly, he forgot to mention to me that you were, too."

"Oh, I'm not…" she said, shaking her head. "I'm just, uh, I'm just here…"

"Don't bother making anything up, Weasley. I don't care," Pansy said. She had leant even closer, and Ginny's breath hitched.

 **xxx**

"You're cute when you're nervous," she said, watching a blush rise up to cover Ginny's freckled cheeks. She wasn't wearing makeup, and surprisingly, Pansy found she quite liked that.

"I—" Ginny's voice broke, and Pansy took pity on the poor girl. She'd obviously not done this before.

"I'm going to kiss you now, Weasley."

 **xxx**

Ginny didn't have time to react before Pansy was leaning forward, brushing their lips together until she felt like she was melting. She felt that kiss all the way to her core, and as Pansy's tongue swept across her own, Ginny couldn't find it in her to care that she was snogging Pansy Parkinson in the loo. When Pansy dropped one of her hands to grip her waist, sliding it under her jumper until it met bare skin, Ginny lost all semblance of thought and lost herself to the kiss completely.

She groaned and kissed her back needily, bringing her own hands up to cup the witch's face.

 **xxx**

Pansy continued to snog Ginny, amazed at how much she was enjoying it. When she lightly bit the redhead's lower lip, pulling it between her teeth, Pansy felt Ginny shudder and moan, and it only served to motivate her. She wanted to hear more of those sounds.

She moved her hand from the wall and placed it on the side of Ginny's head, running her fingers through the fiery locks as Ginny reached out and gripped her waist, pulling her closer.

The kiss was hot, needy, and sensual all at the same time, and Pansy didn't ever want it to end.

 _Shit_ , she thought as she pulled away, panting. It wasn't supposed to have been like _that._ It wasn't supposed to have been _that_ good. Bloody hell, where did the girl learn to kiss like that?

 **xxx**

Ginny caught her breath and tried to stop her hands from trembling. Pansy was looking at her with a surprised expression, and she didn't know what to make of that.

"I'm… I'm not a lesbian," Ginny said under her breath.

That seemed to break Pansy out of her trance. She laughed, sounding delighted.

"Oh sweetie, there are more options than just _straight_ or _gay_ ," she said, smiling wickedly as she turned on her incredibly red heels and left the loo, leaving Ginny alone.

Walking to the sink, Ginny turned on the tap and splashed her face with cold water.

She had just kissed Pansy Parkinson.

No. Pansy Parkinson had just kissed _her._

But she'd kissed back.

" _What. The. Fuck,"_ she whispered to herself slowly before exiting the bathroom and practically running out of the nightclub to the nearest apparition point.

* * *

 **A/N:** Alright, let me know what you think! Sending love to you all!


	2. Rapid Fire

**Disclaimer:** Joanne did the hard work. I just reorganised her words a little.

 **Beta Love:** BirdieMing, Mahawna, & MissandMarauder

 **A/N:** Chapter two! Hope you enjoy it!

 **xoxo, Luce**

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWO**

 **Rapid Fire**

"Weasley! Get your head out of your arse! This isn't your granny's knitting group, get back in the game!"

Ginny's head snapped up, eyes scanning the pitch for the Quaffle. It wasn't the first time her coach had yelled at her during practice today. Her head was anywhere but _in the game._

Cursing silently at herself, she straightened up and flew toward the hoops, wishing that practice would just end already.

Though the remnants of her ridiculous night out had only left her with a slight headache in the morning, she was feeling entirely unsettled by what occurred. She had _actually_ _kissed_ Pansy Parkinson. In a gay bar. And it hadn't been a dare.

Groaning, Ginny shoved the thoughts aside and focused on the game. The kiss had been two days ago, and there wasn't anything she could do about it now, so she might as well just forget about it and focus on training. She would have plenty of time to think about things later.

xxx

Later turned out to last all the way until the end of practice. After she had been properly told off by Coach for her complete lack of focus today, she made her way into the locker room to shower and change.

Only once she got there, thoughts of Pansy began to take over again and she didn't know what to make of it all. She knew she wasn't a lesbian, _she liked men, for Merlin's sake!_ But still… That kiss with Pansy had been, well, it was bloody _amazing._

So where the fuck did that leave her?

Feeling overwhelmed, Ginny said a hurried goodbye to her teammates and rushed out, heading toward the apparition point nearby. She walked the block to her home and into her own shower where she could sit down and think—or not think—in private.

She needed to talk to Harry, but even thinking about bringing any of this up to him made her hands shake and a deep blush rise up her neck. She couldn't keep this bottled, though. It was already distracting her from her everyday life—this morning she had stuck her bloody wand in her cuppa instead of her spoon! Her mind could not _let it go_.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Ginny muttered to herself. She dried off and grabbed her wand, casting her Patronus before she could change her mind.

When the massive spectral horse appeared in front of her, she admired it briefly before saying, "Hey Harry, let's meet for drinks soon? I want to talk to you about something." Nodding to the creature, she watched as it galloped out of the room to deliver the message to Harry.

She stood there for a moment, staring at the empty space left behind. Was she really going to do this?

xxx

Harry's returning stag had arrived almost immediately, scaring the living daylights out of her. She'd been in the process of putting jeans on when the massive creature walked through her wall, causing her to trip and fall over. She'd shouted a loud ' _fuck you Potter'_ while rubbing the knot on her head before the Patronus opened its mouth and Harry's voice spilled out.

His reply had been entirely concerned, and he offered to meet her that night at the Leaky. She'd sent a message back telling him to cool his fancy dragonhide boots and that it wasn't anything life threatening before asking if they could go somewhere a little less crowded. He'd agreed, and that was exactly how they came to be sitting at the Banshee. It wasn't someplace Ginny typically frequented, but booze really was just about the same anywhere, and it wasn't a place they would run into anyone they knew, so it worked.

Harry looked _ridiculously_ well put together, as he always did now, thanks to Draco. Blue trousers, a grey sweater over a button up with a tie, even his socks matched. Ginny chuckled as she sipped her drink, thinking that even if Harry's hair remained untameable, at least he dressed well.

"I thought Draco was out of town for business this week," she said, prolonging the small talk before she had to rip the band-aid off and get to the hard stuff.

Harry crinkled his face, confused. "He is, what's that got to do with anything?"

"Well, even your bloody socks match, and there is no universe in which Harry Potter can match his own socks," she said, tapping his foot with her own, drawing attention to the perfectly matched grey argyle socks he wore.

Harry rolled his eyes, even as a red blush crept up his neck. "Ahh, yeah. Well, he may have laid out outfits for me to wear in his absence…"

"Harry James Potter, no!" Ginny was laughing too hard to get anything else out for a moment. "You let him dress you, even when he's not here?"

"Oh, come off it, Gin. You know him, you think he gives me a choice? It remains one of the concessions of our relationship." Harry chuckled as he reached for his drink. His expression softened and he quietly added, "Plus it makes him happy." The expression on his face made Ginny's heart squeeze. Five words and the love he felt for the man was unmistakable.

Ginny sighed and took a long sip of her own drink. She finished the beer and waved the waitress over.

"Another one of these please, and four shots of firewhisky."

The woman nodded at Ginny and turned to Harry. "Anything I can get you, Mister Potter?"

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. She knew he was quite used to, but still not comfortable with, the hero worship and general fame that followed him around. The woman smiled again and took the empty glass before disappearing toward the bar.

As soon as she had turned to leave, Harry raised his eyebrows and spoke. "Whoa, Gin. Did your mum send you out on another awful blind date or something?"

"Merlin, no. After that last one I told her if she ever did it again I'd anonymously leak a list of every person I'd ever slept with to the _Prophet_ and ruin any chance I had of a _decent match_." She used air quotes on the last bit. Her mum never missed a chance to remind her that she was getting older and needed to seriously consider settling down with a _decent man_ , from a good family who could provide for her. That she didn't need to be working once the wedding bells started ringing, and what kind of profession was Quidditch for a lady anyway? It was quite the sore spot in their relationship, and Ginny had been doing everything possible to avoid spending time with her mum lately.

"So what's with all the booze then? Did you get fired? No, you can't have been fired, you're the best bloody chaser in the league. Merlin's ball sack, please tell me you aren't pregnant? Oh shit, Ginny… Wait, no, can't be pregnant, you're drinking. Have you—" Harry was rapid firing possible scenarios, and he'd never been good at subtlety. The people at table next to theirs were already giving Ginny dirty looks for drinking while apparently pregnant, so she cut him off before the whole bar was on her tail for mixing a non-existent pregnancy with alcohol.

"I kissed Pansy Parkinson," she blurted, interrupting his rambling.

Harry's eyes bulged immediately. Whatever scenarios he had cooked up in his mind, that obviously wasn't one of them. "What?!"

Before he could get another word out, the waitress returned with their drinks. Ginny immediately took hold of one of the small glasses filled with amber liquid and tipped it back, downing the contents. She slammed the empty shot back on the table and reached for the second, finishing it off as well. She looked at Harry, who was still wide-eyed, mouth open, gaping at her, and took it upon herself to drink one of his shots as well.

When her third glass hit the table with a clunk, Harry snapped out of his trance and reached out for the last shot, drinking it with as much dedication as Ginny had the last three. He slowly placed it on the table in front of him, levelling her with an intense, questioning stare.

Her breaths were shallow and quick as she waited for Harry to say something. She hadn't meant to drop the bomb quite like that—she'd rather slowly ease him into it, but the words had already spilled out, and now all she could do was wait for his reaction.

"I'm sorry, Ginny. Can we backtrack? Because I could've sworn that I heard you say that you kissed Parkinson. Pansy Parkinson."

"Uh, yeah," she said quietly, unsure of his reaction so far.

"Was it a dare?"

"No."

"Were you drunk?"

"No…"

"Did you like it?"

Ginny felt her neck and face heat under the blush that quickly rose to cover her fair skin.

Harry chuckled, reaching for his beer again. "I'll take that as a yes," he said, smirking. "You're going to need to start from the beginning, and we're going to need more drinks." Harry had hardly moved his hand to wave the waitress over again when she appeared at the table, clearly having been waiting for his signal. Ginny rolled her eyes as the woman so obviously flirted with Harry, who readily ignored her intentions, making Ginny chuckle.

That was the one thing about going out with Harry—people always flirted with him. His relationship with Draco had been public for years now, but people—both women and men—still did their best to tempt him. No matter how many times Harry said he was in a relationship, people still tried to persuade him out of it. As if The-Boy-Who-Fucking-Defeated-Voldemort could be persuaded by their sheer force of will.

"So," he said. "Care to explain, or are you going to let me make up my own scenarios?"

She bit her lip and sighed, not sure where to begin. "I went to a gay bar?"

"I think we might need to start even further back than that, Gin. Like, what in the world prompted you to go to a gay bar, for starters."

The waitress returned with their drinks, unceremoniously dropping Ginny's in front of her and then carefully sliding Harry's toward him, making sure to lean as far forward as she could, showing off her considerable cleavage. Harry nodded once at her in thanks before returning his full attention to Ginny. The woman pouted but straightened up and returned to the bar.

Drinking deeply from her refilled glass, she set it down and sighed, a tear sliding down her cheek as she spoke quietly. "I don't know, Harry, I just don't know."

"Gin, oh c'mon Gin, don't cry. Please don't cry," Harry said as he slid out of his side of the booth and into hers. He put an arm around her shoulders, and she laughed as a few more tears fell. Harry reached his arm up and gently wiped her cheeks with his thumb. "What happened, Ginny?"

"I don't know, Harry, I don't know anything. I don't think I know who I am anymore." Ginny sniffled and rubbed at her nose with the sleeve of her sweater. "You know I haven't dated much since we broke up, and I really thought it was just because I was so focused on the team and moving on from the war and because I just couldn't find anyone who I really _wanted_ , you know, beyond just the physicality of it." She shrugged and grabbed a napkin off the table to wipe her eyes, glad that at least Harry's name had gotten them a semi-private table near the back.

"Have you found someone you want now then?" Harry asked.

"Well, no. Not exactly."

"What prompted you to go into a gay bar?"

Ginny sighed. "I've been wondering for awhile now, um, if I was a little less straight than maybe I originally thought, you know? But I kept pushing it off or ignoring it, until the other night. I was just sitting in my flat and I couldn't take it anymore—I just wanted to know. So I apparated to Renegade before I could reconsider and walked inside." She paused to take another sip and look up at Harry.

He smiled reassuringly at her and nodded, prompting her to continue.

"Well, I went inside and headed up to the bar and ordered a drink." Ginny blushed, remembering the woman who had asked her to dance. "A, uh, a woman asked me to dance, so I ran into the bathroom," she said quickly, slightly embarrassed at having to relive that.

"Naturally," Harry said, laughing. "Of course, Ginny Weasley, famous Chaser, courageous _Gryffindor_ , would literally run away from flirtation and into the nearest loo."

Ginny whacked him on the shoulder, but he continued laughing. "It's not funny, Harry!" She couldn't help smiling, though, because it really was funny. If she could get past the embarrassment of it all then she might be able to openly laugh along with him. As it was, however, she was still so confused and worried about the whole situation that she couldn't keep a frown from darkening her features.

" _Come on,_ Harry. Honestly, I was mortified! I ran away! I went to the loo and I hid in there, and the next thing I knew, Pansy was in there with me, refreshing her makeup and questioning me. Then she just sort of cornered me and kissed me," Ginny said, noticing that her heart raced just thinking about it.

"And you liked it," Harry said, smiling wickedly at her discomfort.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, alright, Harry. We've already established that, you prat. What do I _do_ about it?"

"What do you mean 'do'? I can't give you much advice on that part, Gin. I wasn't with any girls after you, and you already know all my tricks," Harry said with a wink.  
"Gross, Potter, not what I meant!"

"Ahh, but it made you smile, eh?" Harry said, grinning and taking a sip.

Ginny shook her head and drank as well.

"Ginevra Weasley doesn't do sounding boards, so is it safe to assume you asked me out for advice?"

Ginny nodded.

"Then I'd tell you to explore it, Gin. You aren't going to know how you feel unless you give this a shot, right?"

"So, what, just date girls?"

Harry chuckled, "Exactly."

"I can't do that, Harry, what would I tell people?"

"Tell them whatever you want, or nothing at all. It's your life, not theirs. Your personal business is yours alone."

"Oh, yeah, mum, no big deal. I'm just dating girls now, nothing to be concerned about," Ginny said in a mocking tone.

"No one says you have to tell her, Gin. Do you go into detail with her _now_ about who you're dating?"

Ginny made a face. "Merlin, no, that woman is ruthless. Give her a crumb and she sniffs until she's found the whole biscuit. I don't even tell her I've gone on a date unless it's one she's set up for me, and even then it's just to get her off my back."

"So why would that change, then?" Harry asked.

"Ugh, I guess you're right. It's just scary. I don't know what I'm feeling and I'm afraid to find out."

"You think I knew what the fuck was going on when I first fancied Draco? Merlin, Gin, that was confusing as fuck—I'd only just stopped hating him!"

"You didn't have Molly-up-your-arse-Weasley asking after your dating queue every bloody day, though."

Harry groaned and ran a hand down his face. "I had Molly-up-my-arse-Weasley owling or flooing me every bloody week asking me if I'd figured things out yet because she was sure you'd take me back if I only asked."

"She didn't!" Ginny's jaw dropped and her eyes bulged. "Oh, Harry, tell me she didn't!"

"For almost two months," he said, nodding.

"Why didn't you tell me? I would have made her leave you alone!"

"I didn't want to bug you, I'd already broken up with you, giving almost no explanation; I didn't think you needed more of my shite at the time."

"That bloody woman is a menace!"

"Eh, it's in the past, Gin. Don't need to worry about it now."

"But—"

"No," he said, cutting her off. "It's in the past, and I'd be just as happy to leave it there, lest she think we've started talking about our relationship again. Don't want to give her any ideas." He laughed, and Ginny joined him, still slightly mortified at her mother's actions.

After a moment, their laughter died down and Ginny looked over at him again. "How did you know you'd be happy dating a man?"

"Well, that's the thing. I didn't, really. I just knew I was attracted to him, and I wanted to find out if there was anything there."

"But are you still attracted to women?"

He shrugged. "Yes and no. I am still attracted to the female form if that's what you're asking. But I'm happy with Draco, and I don't find myself looking elsewhere or noticing anyone else—men or women."

"And if you two ever broke up, would you date a man or a woman?"

"I don't think we plan on breaking up."

"But if you did…"

"I suppose I would date whoever I fancied next," he said, shrugging. "That's the thing, Gin. I just don't care. Man, woman, in between, I don't really care. I fall for the person, not what's in their pants."

"When did Harry bloody Potter become so rational?" she said exasperatedly.

Harry laughed and finished his drink. "Take a break, dance with me." He stood up and held out a hand.

"There's no one dancing, Harry," she said.

He only shook his hand impatiently, so Ginny finished her own drink and accepted, letting him drag her out of the booth.

"I'm Harry bloody Potter, I do what I want," he said teasingly, grabbing her by the waist and hugging her close, swaying them to the music.

She laughed and let her friend attempt to clear her thoughts with his awful dance moves. She was able to push them aside for the time being, thankful that her friendship with Harry didn't end when their relationship did.


	3. Nice Bow Tie

**Disclaimer:** Joanne did the hard work. I just reorganised her words a little.

 **Beta Love:** BirdieMing, Mahawna, MissandMarauder, & Dreamingofstars85

 **A/N:** Alright, here ya go! Hope you enjoy it!  
xoxo, L

* * *

 **CHAPTER THREE  
Nice Bow Tie  
**

While Ginny had woken up with a pounding headache, a bruise on her ribs from when Harry's awful dance moves had gone terribly wrong, and a thick mess of tangled hair, _clarity_ had failed to come through the night.

Harry, the prat, hadn't really helped at all! She was still just as confused as before, though that was less his fault, and more hers for not knowing where she stood. He had listened, offered advice, and lifted her mood. Aside from him solving the whole problem for her, she supposed she really couldn't ask for more. He had been a friend when she'd needed one, and that was something.

It didn't stop her from wishing he'd just bloody told her exactly what to do to make this all go away, though.

She somehow managed to keep her head in the game during practice on Friday. She did her shopping and cleaning up on Saturday—because nothing got picked up throughout the week, and by next Saturday she'd have _two_ _weeks_ worth of trash and mess, and that was out of the question. She'd even taken a hot bath with salts and a cup of herbal tea before bed, taking the time to dry her hair properly and use the lotion that Draco had given her for her last birthday.

The tag had actually read _Love Harry_ , but Ginny knew there was no way that Harry-can't-pick a-decent-gift-Potter had thought to buy 13 Galleon lotion in her favourite scent on his own.

It was now approaching four in the afternoon on Sunday, which meant she had to get her arse out of pyjamas and into something acceptable for the Weasley Sunday dinner. Joy.

It had been an entirely casual affair before bloody Potter started bringing Draco. They wore jeans for Merlin's sake! But once Draco had shown up in some fancy-pants muggle suit, her mother had gotten the idea that they really should all take a note from him and dress up for the occasion. Ginny had grumbled and complained and dragged her feet on it, because it was bloody dinner, at her damn childhood home, _every_ bloody week! But once Molly had an idea and set the rules, she wouldn't back down. Which was why the entire Weasley clan had to bloody well dress up like the posh for dinner.

Sunday dinner was something her mother had insisted on after the war ended. She'd said after coming so close to losing her family she wouldn't dare let any of them take their survival for granted. She'd insisted on dinner every week, and so every week they'd had it. Five years now, and still she insisted. Obviously, everyone couldn't make it every week. Charlie was in Romania, Percy was often out travelling for work, Bill and Fleur had little Victoire, but whoever could come did, because it made Molly happy. And it kept them from her wrath, which hadn't lost any effect, though they were now all full grown adults.

Poor Hermione had gotten a Howler after missing four dinners in a row when she and Ron broke up. Luckily, it had only been Ginny and Harry in earshot of the Howler when it arrived at Hermione's flat. Molly had scolded her as if she'd been born a Weasley, asking if she thought that because she was no longer dating her son meant that she was any less family, and how could she think so low of the family. She said she understood taking some time to herself and having a little distance from Ron, but if she didn't show up for dinner that week, Molly would personally march to her flat and drag her home by the ear.

Hermione had shown up for dinner early that week, and Molly had pretended to be surprised to see her. There was no mention of the howler—both witches seemed content to pretend it never happened.

When Harry and Ginny had broken up, Harry didn't even bother missing dinner that week. It might have been different if they had ended things on bad terms, but really, it was a mutual decision, and they had been heading that way for a while. When they'd finally called it quits, they'd felt relief more than anything else.

They actually hadn't told anyone when they first broke things off, not even Hermione. Which was a testament to just how bad their relationship had been since no one had noticed anything different. After a few weeks though, they came clean, to their family and the blasted media. It had taken another few weeks after that, but things finally settled down and Ginny had felt like she could breathe again. No more trying to make it work, no more pretending, just _being_.

Sometime after that Neville had started coming to dinner with Hermione. Ron would bring girls along once in awhile. Audrey started coming when Percy was in town, even the twins brought dates now and then. When Molly found out that Harry and Draco had been seeing each other for months and Harry hadn't brought him to Sunday dinner once, she'd thoroughly scolded him before insisting that he bring Draco along.

It had actually gone a lot smoother than Ginny had ever imagined possible. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny already knew about Draco, and the rest of the family had been entirely welcoming once they realised that Draco wasn't who he'd been in school.

Seeing Harry as happy as he was with Draco helped significantly. They fit together like pieces of a puzzle, and it was hard to be anything _but_ happy for them when they were so bloody in love with each other.

Ginny opened her closet and eyed the assortment of dresses that hung in near pristine condition. She really didn't feel like wearing any of them—especially the awful ones her mother picked out. She had even less desire than usual to put one of them on and sit uncomfortably all night, so after only a moment's deliberation, Ginny grabbed a pair of black trousers and a white button-up blouse. It was essentially what the boys all were allowed to wear and really, the rule was to _'dress nice'_ , not to wear a dress.

Smiling, Ginny checked herself over in the mirror. She quickly braided her hair to the side and adjusted the collar of her blouse before slipping on a pair of black pointed flats that Hermione had helped her pick out. Somehow, they were incredibly comfortable, while still looking formal. She gave her reflection one last glance, shrugged, and headed off to her Floo.

When she walked through the fireplace in the living room of the Burrow, she was surprised by the silence. She could hear squeals and muffled shouts coming from the back garden and the bustle of her mother in the kitchen. Taking the long way out back, making sure to avoid the kitchen, she found that most of the family had already arrived, and by the looks of things, there was a full house tonight. Victoire was chasing after a stuffed dragon that Bill had charmed to fly around the garden. Fleur, Hermione, and Audrey were sitting together, laughing as they watched Victoire desperately trying to catch the little dragon. Neville, Draco, and the twins were absorbed in what looked to be a more serious conversation, which Ginny assumed meant the twins were trying to get Draco or Neville to invest in some new idea of theirs… _again_. Her dad, Percy, Ron, and Harry were looking at what appeared to be a Muggle device of some sort. Ginny smiled and shook her head—Harry was never able to tell her father no, which meant he spent many hours talking about Muggle things with her father, the poor guy.

Harry looked up and caught her eye, smiling widely at her. He put a hand on her father's shoulder as he stood, and she watched her father look over and wave at her, then nod to Harry. Percy and Ron both gave salutes as well before they were absorbed back into conversation with their father.

She took a few steps forward and greeted an approaching Harry with a hug. He stepped back and chuckled after releasing her.

"Has your mum seen you yet?" he asked.

"I went 'round the long way to avoid the kitchen," she admitted, laughing as well.

"Probably a good idea. I think she's less likely to maim you in front of Draco or Neville," Harry said, laughing again. "Drink?" he asked.

"Please." Ginny nodded and smiled, following Harry to the little table set up with drinks. He poured two tumblers of firewhisky, handing one to her and taking a sip of the other. Ginny leant back against the side of the house, watching her friends and family. She was unsurprised when Draco stood and walked over, joining her and Harry.

"Interesting take on formal dress, Miss Weasley," Draco said, smiling at her and reaching for Harry's glass to steal a sip.

Ginny sighed and shook her head. "Look, I didn't want to wear a dress, is that really such a big deal?"

"Not to us," Draco said, handing Harry his glass back and shrugging. "Your mother though, she is a different case _entirely_."

Ginny had a few moments of silence before she saw food begin to appear on the table and heard a little bell chime, alerting them that dinner was ready. Everyone moved to take their places while her mother pushed her way out the back door, levitating a golden turkey behind her.  
"Alright everyone, settle down, settle down, dinner is served!" She smiled as she looked around at everyone gathering to the table until her gaze fell on Ginny. She pursed her lips and put a hand on her hip, walking around the table to stand by her daughter. "Ginevra, why aren't you wearing one of the lovely dresses I've sent you?"

Ginny shrugged. "Didn't feel like it tonight, mum. Dinner looks lovely." She pulled out her chair and sat down, smiling at Hermione on her left.

Molly huffed and walked back around the table, taking her seat before looking at the others. "Well, dig in!"

It honestly surprised her that her mother had let it go so easily and didn't say another thing about it during the entire meal. It wasn't until everyone had finished dessert and was animatedly chatting around the table that Molly mentioned it again.

"Ginny, would you help me get this to the kitchen?" she asked, her tone deceptively calm.

Inwardly grimacing, she agreed and waited until her mother was out of earshot before groaning and whispering under her breath, "Wish me luck."

Harry chuckled, and Hermione offered to be a buffer, but Ginny told her not to bother. She levitated several dishes back into the kitchen, where she found her mother cleaning up.

Ginny set the plates on the counter, charming the sink to begin the washing and was about to turn to leave again when Molly spoke.

"Really, Ginevra, is it really that hard to put on a dress?" Molly sighed and placed a hand on her hip.

"I just didn't feel like it tonight, mum," Ginny said calmly. She really didn't have it in her to argue with her mum right now.

Before Molly could reply, Harry walked through the door carrying a few plates and set them on the counter. "Thanks Molly, dinner was great, as usual," he said, grinning at her.

"Oh, Harry dear, of course. I'm so glad you could make it tonight," Molly said, wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist.

"Whenever we can, Molly." Harry smiled at her and turned to Ginny. "Are the Harpies coming to the Ministry's fundraiser gala this week?"

Ginny sighed. "Some of them are. I haven't decided if I want to go yet."

"Come with me and Draco," Harry offered. "We can grab dinner before if you want."

"I'll think about it. Thanks, Harry."

Molly made an excited sound and turned to Ginny. "A perfect opportunity for you to mingle! I'm sure there will be several single young men there to meet. Make sure to dress up, will you Ginevra? And not in whatever getup you thought was appropriate tonight. A _dress._ "

"I don't get what the big deal is, mum. I'm wearing practically the same as what Fred and George are wearing, and you told them they look perfectly respectable and handsome tonight."

"Your brothers are wearing suits! With ties! And I don't know if you're aware, but Ginevra Molly Weasley, you are a _girl_!" Molly said exasperatedly, pointing a finger at Ginny.

Ginny raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips. She pulled out her wand and tapped her collar, transfiguring the top button into a black bow tie. She then pointed her wand at the belt loop on the front of her trousers, transfiguring it into a pair of suspenders that crossed over her shoulders and down her back.

"How's that, mum? Now I have a bow tie. Is _that_ formal enough for you?" They were both clearly angry now, and poor Harry had no choice but to stand awkwardly off to the side. Ginny saw several others shuffling into the house, but she just couldn't find it in her to care that they had an audience.

"Six boys, and a girl who dresses like them. Merlin, what did I do to deserve this? Ginevra, men aren't going to want a wife who dresses exactly like them! Men want a lady, and this," she gestured to Ginny's outfit, "is _not_ ladylike."

"Aw, mum, come on now. Gin just dresses comfortably," George said.

"Yet still fashionably," Fred added with a smirk. Looking at Ginny, he grinned. "Nice bow tie, sis!"

George gestured to her and said, "And those suspenders—Fred, why don't we wear suspenders?"

Molly huffed furiously and the twins quickly shouted in unison, "Thanks for dinner mum!" and were gone in a pop of apparition.

Molly took a breath and turned back to Ginny. "I will give you a pass tonight, Ginevra. I will also send over a decent dress for you to wear this week. I'm sure I can manage to get a date to the gala for you with Anthony Goldstein. I've been seeing his mother quite a bit recently. Such a nice family. She says he has asked you out several times, but your schedules just never seem to quite line up. I think he has his eye on you, you know. He comes from a good family, and his mother is—"

"MUM! Just stop already! I don't give a shite how you know his mother, and I don't give a shite about Anthony Goldstein! I can bloody well find my own dates _if and when_ I want them! I don't live under your roof anymore, stop trying to control me! You get no say in who, or _if,_ I date, and I'd bloody well appreciate it if you kept your nose out of my life!"

Molly gasped and put a hand to her chest dramatically, blood rising to colour her cheeks. "Ginevra!"

"No, mum. I'm not interested," Ginny said angrily. She turned to Harry, ignoring the fit her mother was throwing over her behaviour. "I will let you know about the gala."

Harry nodded his head as she turned and marched from the kitchen, not stopping until she was stomping out of the Floo and into her own apartment.


	4. Little Box of Misery

**Disclaimer:** Joanne did the hard work. I just reorganised her words a little.

 **Beta Love:** BirdieMing, Mahawna, & MissandMarauder

 **A/N:** I realise it's been forever. You've probably already forgotten about this story, it's been so long. SORRY!

Xoxo, Luce

* * *

 **CHAPTER FOUR**

 **Little Misery Box**

Ginny paced around her apartment, fuming. How could her mother still think that she had absolute control over her life? Why did she think it was any of her business who she dated, or when she dated them? Let alone trying to dictate what she wore! This was exactly why she chose to only see her mum during Sunday dinners, and do her damndest to fend off the woman's attempts to get together any other time. It really wasn't worth the frustration of spending the entire time fighting for control over her life.

Ginny looked at herself in the mirror again. She'd never worn a bow tie or suspenders before, but she found that she rather liked the look. It somehow suited her, and she felt much more comfortable than she ever did in dresses. She actually thought she looked rather nice, and these trousers even showed off what little bum she had. She huffed and turned from the mirror to walk into her kitchen where there was a bottle of firewhisky calling her name.

Opening the cupboard, she grabbed a glass and was about to pour herself a generous serving when she paused. It was still relatively early in the evening and she didn't have to be at practice until the afternoon on Monday. There was no reason she had to stay home and wallow alone.

Without another moment of deliberation, Ginny left her apartment and briskly walked to the nearest apparition point, vanishing on the spot.

xxx

Walking into Renegade, she found that it wasn't as rowdy as it had been the last time. There were only a handful of people tonight, which made it incredibly easy for her to spot Pansy Parkinson at the bar, even though her back was turned. Chase was animatedly talking to Pansy, but he threw Ginny a smile and a wink when he saw her. She took a deep breath and determinedly walked over to the witch, sliding into the stool next to her, still looking at Chase.

"Firewhisky, please."

She watched Pansy out of the corner of her eye. The witch slowly turned her body to face her but didn't say anything yet. Chase grinned and pulled a shot glass up to the counter, filling it to the brim before sliding it to Ginny.

She quickly downed the amber liquid and pushed the glass back, holding a finger up to ask for another. Chase poured the second shot. She gulped it down just as quickly as the first and pushed it back again. "Another, please."

"Damn Weasley, what's got your knickers in a twist tonight?" Pansy asked.

Ginny waited for the third shot, swallowing it down before turning to face Pansy. When she finally took a good look at the witch sitting next to her, the butterflies in her stomach increased tenfold.

Pansy was sitting, one leg delicately crossed over the other, her head slightly cocked to the side. She was wearing a dark red velvet dress that hugged her in all the right places, and Ginny struggled not to let her gaze drift inappropriately.

"My mother," she said in answer to Pansy's question.

Pansy laughed lightly and turned to Chase. "Another round of shots, Chase. For awful mothers," she said before turning back to Ginny. "I have one of those, too. What's yours done?"

"Spent the last several years trying to marry me off to every eligible bachelor and refusing to rein in her disappointment when I don't cooperate. Plus she made it clear tonight that she thinks I look like a boy and no man will ever want me like this." Ginny rolled her eyes and accepted the shot, watching as Pansy raised her own glass in toast.

"To interfering mothers," Pansy said before lifting the shot to her lips.

Ginny mirrored her and slid the empty glass across the counter.

"I think you look quite fetching," Pansy said offhandedly as she slid her own glass back to Chase. "A couple more beers, handsome?"

Chase nodded and began filling glasses for them.

Ginny blushed and looked anywhere but at the witch sitting next to her. She smiled in thanks as Chase offered her the beer and then excused himself to work down the bar, turning back to Pansy when she spoke again.

"I was wondering when I would see you here again."

"What made you think I'd show up again?" Ginny asked, rotating her body to face the witch.

"No one kisses back like that if they aren't into it, Weasley." Pansy smiled suggestively and raised one perfectly groomed eyebrow.

Ginny blushed and turned her head from Pansy, not having any clue how to respond to that. Hearing Pansy chuckle softly, though, she turned back to face her.

"You're cute when you're nervous," Pansy said, taking far too much pleasure in Ginny's discomfort. "Why are you nervous?"

Ginny blushed even more. "I'm not… I…" Ginny sighed and picked at her cuticle. "I'm not sure what I'm doing here," she admitted quietly.

"Looks to me like you're drinking," Pansy offered with a shrug. "That's why I'm here."

Ginny laughed and nodded in agreement, taking a hearty sip of her beer.

xxx

The poor girl was wound tighter than an Unspeakable, and Pansy found herself intrigued and more than a little determined to get her to open up.

"So what's the occasion?" she asked, reaching out to gently tug on the black bow tie around Weasley's neck.

"Sunday dinner," she said. "Ever since Harry started bringing Draco, mum's insisted that we all dress up." She rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed. "I usually wear a dress to placate her, but tonight I just really didn't feel like it."

Pansy pursed her lips. "She doesn't like a woman in trousers?"

"'It's not _ladylike_ , and no man wants a woman who dresses the same as he does.' She doesn't seem to understand that I might not want the life she's planned out for me."

"You would think she would have figured out by now that you aren't a barefoot in the kitchen, baby on the hip sort of witch."

"Exactly! I don't know how to make her see that I don't want that."

"Maybe she never will." Pansy took a sip of her beer and shrugged.

"Thanks for the optimism," Weasley said under her breath.

"You have to get over being hung up about what your mum wants you to do, Weasley. Get over what anyone else wants you to do, _except you_. You'll be stuck in your little box of misery until you move past other people's expectations and start living only for yourself. The misery box sucks, don't get stuck there."

When she got no response, Pansy glanced at the redhead sitting next to her. Weasley was looking directly at her, untamed eyebrows raised, with a knowing look on her face.

"Are we talking about me, or you, here?"

"We are talking about getting more drinks, actually. You and I are getting wasted tonight, Weasley. So wasted that we forget we care about what anyone else thinks. Chase, we need more shots!"

Pansy bit her lip as she watched Chase skip down the bar toward them. She purposefully avoided looking at the witch sitting next to her because that's _all_ that she wanted to do. Pansy was not used to being the one desperately wanting more. She was used to being the mysterious, hard to get, one night stand. This curiosity business didn't feel right at all.

Which obviously meant more alcohol was needed.

xxx

"What do you mean you and Draco never slept together? It was literally common knowledge that you two defiled the school on a regular basis!" Ginny barely got through the end of her sentence before she was laughing through tear-filled eyes.

They'd both had more drinks than she could count at this point, and Pansy just revealed that apparently, she and Draco were only fake-dating all those years in school.

"Honestly!" Pansy laughed, shaking her head. "We did try, once, but that was—" She made a face as if she'd eaten something rotten and Ginny squealed.

"It was what? Don't leave me hanging, Parkinson! Spill!"

"I think we were fifteen? The summer before we started pretending to date each other. I was at Draco's, and he had a bottle of firewhisky stashed up in his room. Neither of us were at all sober, and we decided that we should try it out, just to make sure," Pansy said, laughing with a shrug.

"Make sure of what?" Ginny asked, grinning cheekily. She realised, of course, that the alcohol was entirely affecting her ability to act normal at this point, but she was having too good a time to slow down now.

Pansy leant in, so Ginny followed suit, still grinning as Pansy whispered, "To make sure we were gay! It was Draco's idea, really," Pansy said, smiling at the memory. "We got as far as him sticking his tongue in my mouth before we both started laughing and gagging too hard." Pansy laughed at the memory and finished her beer.

"Why did everyone think you two were doing it all over the castle then?" Ginny asked, genuinely curious as to how that rumor had spread until it was considered a fact.

"Oh, we _were_ doing it all over the castle, just not with each other," Pansy said seriously, before losing it and laughing loudly again.

Ginny's eyes widened and her jaw dropped before she joined the other witch in her laughter.

"Who—?" She shook her head and raised her eyebrows. "There were _a lot_ of rumours, Parkinson."

"Well, there were a lot of girls," she said, shrugging and looking entirely unashamed by her own history.

"I'm not sure I believe you, are we talking about the same Hogwarts here? Giant castle, hidden in Scotland, squid in the lake…?"

"That would be the one," Pansy confirmed, and then with a mischievous smile added, "You would be surprised at the number of girls willing to experiment if only you ask."

Ginny let out a burst of laughter even as a blush crept over her. She was entirely too curious as to who had been willing to experiment with Pansy over the years. "I'm going to need some names, Parkinson, otherwise I'll have to assume it's all bollocks."

"Oh, Weasley, you poor, sheltered thing." She reached out and put her hand on Ginny's knee. "I have names from every house. Where do you want me to start?"

"Merlin's balls, every house?" Ginny asked, wide eyed. "How many people have you slept with?"

"A fair few," Pansy answered. "Let's see. Slytherin was Tracey, but only the one time. We were both drunk," she explained. "Hufflepuffs were fun. If you ever get a chance, sleep with a Hufflepuff. They are much naughtier than you'd expect," she said grinning. "That was Hannah and Susan."

"Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones?!" Ginny gasped and blinked several times. "Are they lesbians?"

Pansy shrugged. "I have no clue. Don't really care, either. They're both wild in the sack," she smirked wickedly and continued. "Then there was the Ravenclaw Patil twin, Lavender, and—"

"Lavender Brown? You slept with Lavender Brown? Why? My brother slept with her!"

Pansy made a face. "Yes, _that_ was rather awkward. Something I worked very hard to ignore, so I'd appreciate it if you never bring it up again." She made a face, laughed, and continued. "There was also Lovegood, and I think that covers the Hogwarts years."

"Luna? Luna Lovegood? You slept with Luna?"

Pansy shrugged, "I'd do it again, too. That witch blew my mind." She chuckled and bit her lip, apparently reminiscing.

"Ew," Ginny said, not wanting to think about her friend _blowing Pansy's mind._

"What about you, Weasley? I know Potter was it for you in school, but what about after? I know I heard you dated _someone_ after Potter, but I can't remember who?"

Ginny immediately blushed and took a sip of her beer. She had been so caught up in discovering Pansy's history that she forgot her own would likely be questioned as well. She set her beer down and bit her lip. "Well—"

"Alright witches, get your bloody fantastic arses off my bar stools, I've been closed for ten minutes now!" Chase playfully whipped a bar rag at them, and pointed his wand at their glasses, vanishing their glasses.

"Alright, alright you pushy bastard," Pansy laughed, pulling open her handbag and fishing out several Galleons.

Ginny found her own purse and made sure to leave a generous tip—considering the drink she spilled and the after hours accommodation they'd gotten.

The two witches said animated goodbyes to Chase and left the bar together, heading toward the apparition point that was just around the corner.

"Will you be at the Ministry fundraiser gala this week? I'm covering it for the magazine, it would be nice to see a friendly face."

"I haven't decided yet," Ginny said. "Harry and Draco will be there, though."

"By friendly, I meant _pretty_ ," Pansy said, laughing as they stopped just short of their destination.

Ginny laughed loudly, the alcohol still coursing through her veins. "Oh, they're handsome enough."

"Still, I'd like to see _you_ there." Pansy reached out and straightened the braid on Ginny's shoulder. "Come and see me?"

Ginny blushed, glad for the darkness. The butterflies that had disappeared after her first few drinks had returned with a vengeance, and she found herself quite nervous again. "I'll think about it. I'm not actually sure I even have a dress to wear."

"Then be the rebellious woman your mother so despises and wear trousers," Pansy suggested with a smirk.

Ginny laughed at that. "I might just do that, Parkinson."

"Pansy," she corrected, taking a step forward.

Ginny's breath caught as she realised that she was about to be kissed again. Pansy tucked a loose bit of hair behind her ear, cupped her face, and slowly leant forward. She ignored the screaming nerves inside her body and met the witch's lips with her own, closing her eyes as Pansy kissed her sweetly, her tongue silently requesting entrance, which Ginny granted with a satisfied sigh. She brought her arms to Pansy's waist, not sure if she was holding the witch to her, or holding herself steady.

The kiss was over all too soon, and Ginny drew a ragged breath in as Pansy moved to whisper in her ear.

"Come to the gala," she said with a flirtatious lilt to her voice.

Before Ginny could respond, Pansy had taken a step back, smiled seductively at her, turned, and vanished.

Ginny stood dumbstruck, staring at the spot where Pansy had disappeared. She brought a hand up and gently touched her lips, her heart threatening to beat itself out of her chest. She exhaled slowly and stepped forward, closing her eyes and focusing on apparating home in one piece.

The first thing she did after she stumbled into her flat was grab a piece of parchment and a quill to pen a letter to Harry and Draco.

She was finally going to take Draco up on his longstanding offer to shop for her.


End file.
